Don’t speak, just dance.

What I’ve recently learned about myself is that, when I’m at a party, there’s nothing I like doing more than dance. Why? Because you don’t have to talk to people you don’t know. Now, I know that just sounds like I’m being socially incompetent, which I partially am, but it’s true – even the most obnoxious person is bearable when they’re shutting up and dancing. You don’t have to spend time making stiff conversation, you can just connect by moving to the same beat. You can lose yourself and find someone else at the same time.

Also, there was a boy that reminded me of Phreckles. Now I understand people who hook up with people just because they remind them of the person they like(d). I cared too much, he was awkward and adorable. He is also a year younger than me. So no.

Oh, and a boy in heels is a giant. A glamorous amazon. A glamazon. He was stuck up and nice at the same time, weird and impressive. Also impressive, his makeup. Bree van de Kamp never looked this fabulous…or slutty. Same thing.

A last thing: Some people aren’t so stuck up as you’d think. And some are the opposite. But what else is new?

Back to Phreckles…and school.

An auditorium. Students streaming in through the doors, bringing with them excited noise and an air of anticipation. Me and my friend are sitting on a nearly empty bench, alone and exposed – an intentional position on my part. As the benches start to fill up, my friend murmurs observations about our returned school mates, but I’m barely listening. My eyes are trained on the door on the right, an unconscious exclusion of where it might happen. I am waiting. Waiting for the only thing I have looked forward to on this day.

As the time passes, I grow more and more frustrated. But it is a feeling muddled with fond amusement. Being late is so typical for him, and it’s a part of him I’ve grown to love. Seeing him enter quietly, pulling off his headphones with his eyes trained on the floor and the red hues of his hair glistening in the harsh fluorescents, bringing a warmth I didn’t know the lights could possess. Glancing up quickly to spot the seats that have remained vacant. I have from time to time made sure that the seat next to me is one of them. In the beginning of class, I live for those moments.

But not now. It might be okay for me to wait for you when I just saw you, less than an hour ago, but not when I’ve waited ten weeks. That is enough. Along with my frustration, I feel something else. Something I can’t really put my finger on. I feel the rate of my heart speed up and grow more frantic as I wait. What is it I am feeling? Anticipation? Nervosity? Anxiousness? Probably all of the above. But then it all dissipates.

He enters through the right door, and walks into the room, just like he always does, and I can’t keep myself from smiling. Gone is the feeling of crawling in my skin, and the rapid beating in my chest feels exactly right. I feel a soft fluttering in my stomach, and I finally understand what people mean when they talk about butterflies. I can very clearly feel the delicate flapping of a thousand wings, making me feel as light as a feather. When he takes his seat and is obscured from my view, I feel my face settle into a frown, and I try to comfort myself by thinking that I will see him again soon.

The events repeat themselves a while later when I sit in the classroom, waiting for him, once again, to make an entrance. When he does, I get the same feeling, but this time, my apparent happiness is caught by him. He smiles at me and I can feel the corners of my lips drawing further up my cheeks. I think: Oh, if you only knew how much you do with just a smile.

After the, incredibly dull, run-through of what our last high school year will entail, I go to the school office to wait for my friend, who went earlier to talk to the principal. When I get there, I see that there is a long line outside. I stop and think: “Great.” Then I remember that there are some seats just outside the door. I stand on the tip of my toes and stretch to see above the heads of the students. The seats are empty. Bingo. I squeeze my way past the line, looking down and practically chanting “excuse me”. On my way, I see a very familiar pair of Vans, but ignore that observation for the sake of my…well, sanity. I plop down on the sofa and let out a light sigh, looking up mindlessly. There he is.

He’s standing in line with a girl from class, one of the few people I actually think are pretty cool. Not in this moment though. “Uhm, we’re in line.” Excuse me? I mean, sure, she seems to genuinely want to let me know, but I have eyes that can see, Missy. I’m sure even the blind would notice the line forming, if nothing then by crashing into it on the way to…wherever. Without a thought, I reply: “Well, I’m not.” I say this with a little smirk, and feel my smugness grow as I see the embarrassed look on her face. She lets out a little laugh and I smile to let her know that it’s okay…just don’t try to make me look bad again. Her reaction doesn’t surprise me. What does surprise me is the, very genuine and not embarrassed in the least, laugh that he lets out. He laughs and laughs and at first, I’m puzzled, but can’t help joining in. We share a little look before my friend comes out from the principal’s office and we leave.

Now I’m left wondering what exactly it was that he found so funny, and the big question – what will happen? I at least know that if nothing else, my thoughts of Phreckles will keep me occupied this year. I think we’re off to a decent start, don’t you?

Now I’m pacing back and forth, wishing you were at my door.

Tune of the day CXXIII.

Today, when the door opened and I saw you – my breath caught. As sappy as it sounds, I’m completely taken by you. When you come in like that, looking like the incarnation of Holden Caulfield, I can’t help but melt. And, against my better judgement, I revel in it. And you’re just being your lovely, preckly self, oblivious of how you affect me. When you give me that shy smile, you inadvertently feed the flame. Actually, you set me aflame. Whenever you look at me, it sends a wave of heat through my body. I imagine it’s an elevated version of what blushing feels like. I’ve fallen for you. And though I know there’s a big chance that I’ll crash. Hard. I just know that I’ve never felt so alive. And if falling is what it takes for me to live, then let me free fall for the rest of my life. This tune is for you Phreckles. Every single word is for you. Because it really was enchanting to meet you. And it still is. Every fucking time.

(Due to (idiotic) copyrights, I can’t find a version of the song that hasn’t had its pitch changed. It irritates me, so I’m not even bothering. Instead, I’m putting up a cover by the very lovely Meghan Tonjes. I kind of adore her, so check out her YouTube channel. Incredibly talented.)

This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go
I’m wonder-struck, blushing all the way home
I’ll spend forever wondering if you knew
I was enchanted to meet you

Smiles through a purple haze.

That was the first night I dreamt of P***** U***** (also known as Phreckles).

Everything is in pastels. I’m sitting in this beautiful garden, filled with flowers made of jewels and birds chirping. In the background, I hear wind chimes, nothing out of the ordinary, seeing as I pay no attention to it. I’m sitting at a backgammon table that seats four, the pieces in mint green and salmon pink instead of the usual red and black. Next to me, there’s an old, very elegant man whose presence oozes with authority. Across from him, his wife sits a beauty with auburn hair streaked with silver. I look in front of me and see Phreckles sitting in front of me. The man starts saying something about a mission and we’re clearly aware of the situation. From what I can gather, the man is head of a mafia family that me and Phreckles are working for. He and his wife are our bosses, but also kind of parental figures, they tell us to relax for a bit before it all starts. Suddenly, Phreckles starts talking to me, peppering me with questions. In pleasantly surprised and we have this long conversation about something I can’t remember. Then, the man makes some comment about him liking me, amused by our interaction. Phreckles blushes and looks down, mumbling something about checking out a certain tent. He walks away and the woman says that it’s obvious that he likes me. I’m sceptic, but after they probe me to go after him, I leave. Then I’m at this big music festival with huge white tents. The grass is azure and the sky a pale peach. I go from tent to tent, searching after him. After what feels like an eternity, I decide to give up. When this happens, I’m in some tent where a bunch of people is sitting in a circle. I join them and a hookah is passed around. I take a deep drag, feeling the apple-flavored smoke fill my lungs, and as I release my breath, a lilac puff of smoke hazing my vision, I see Phreckles sitting next to me, smiling. He takes my hand, and as we sit there in the violet, smoky tent…

I wake up.

Girl with a crush.

Hello loves,

Yeah, so I just want to warn you before we start, this post will probably seem silly to you. Succy, my dear friend, is in living it up in Poland at the moment, and since I usually just text her as soon as something worth mentioning happens, I’m just going to write it here.

See Succy, I told you I wouldn’t be able to survive without my inane text ranting.

Alright, so if this was a fanfic, this scenario would probably be described as me “gushing about” or “fawning over” a certain someone. That’s right boys and girls, I’m talking about Phreckles.

So, today we had this group thing in class. We were supposed to discuss the similarities and differences between the Age of Enlightenment and the Romantic Era. So me and Phreckles were in the same group and oh my freaking God, it was wonderful. He’d put his books on the window sill outside of the classroom before he left somewhere unknown, so I brought them in for him. I put his books on the desk next to mine, intentionally yes, so we ended up sitting next to each other. The five of us (who were in the group) had our discussion, and I made sure to bring my A-game. Not just because Phreckles was in the group, but I want to show that I’m smart too, you know? I spent entire sophomore year being quiet. I’m done with that shit. Anyways, so I took the opportunity to look at Phreckles when I talked, and when he talked, a couple of minutes when he wasn’t looking, to stare, and allowed our elbows to brush every once in a while. And holy crap, I’ve never been so close to him, so I’ve never really seen him so up close. I’m writing stupid sentences, because there’s so much I want to say, my typing can’t keep up with my thoughts. His jaw line. Oh my God Succy, his jaw line. And his freckles. And his kind of shy, but not really, smile. And his eyelashes. They’re light and long and when he blinks, it’s like a butterfly batting its wings. Uhm, but in a manly way (I feel bad for expressing it so lamely). And the hair. The freaking hair. To sit so close that you can actually see each nuance. He’s such a lovely ginger. Oh my God I hate myself right now, I’m so cheesy. Anyways, so that was lovely. But then, I surprised myself. We had a Chemistry exam like two classes later, and before Math, I noticed that he was kind of walking behind me in the hallways. So I slowed down a tad, turned around and actually talked to him! Succy, you should be proud. Granted, I just asked him how he felt about the exam, but it was hella scary to start talking to him nonetheless. He was being all charming and Phreckly, and I swooned. I was feeling kinda happy about myself, but apparently, I wasn’t done. After the exams, I was hanging out at some friends’ lockers, and that’s where his locker is too. And then he came to get his stuff, he got off school then (I didn’t, ’cause I have stupid Spanish class ’til like four every friday), so I mustered up the courage and approached him. Oh my God, I had to crane my neck a bit because he’s so tall, and he’s so gangly and handsome and cute and so, so, so lovely. I asked how it went, he said something charming and Phreckly again, and I swooned…again. I wished him a nice weekend and strolled off, even happier about myself. So yeah, three encounters in one day. I probably overdid it a bit, but I don’t really care. I’d rather have too much than nothing at all. I want to make him see. Oh wow, it was so lovely. Oh, and the group thing continues on Monday, and maybe even ’til friday. I’m going to make sure that I seize every moment and take advantage of every opportunity I get.

Yeah, so Succ, you can stop squeeing now. Cheesy, girly moment over.

Love & black lace

P.S. I just realized that I’ve probably never written the phrase “Oh my God” in one post as many times as I just did. Forgive me Father, for taking thy name in vain. No, I’m not being serious. God loves me. Obviously.

EDIT: Apparently, the cheesy moment isn’t over. I just remembered something. He streched his arms above his head and his shirt rode up. My mind turned to mush in that moment. On the right side of the (very pale) sliver of skin, there was a pink line. The scar after having his appendix removed. I have my own appendix scar, but for some reason, it doesn’t look nearly as adorable as his does. Hmm, I wonder why…


You make me feel like an animal. You make my inner beast, that I didn’t even know existed, come out. I am clenching my teeth, biting back a growl, for you. And you are completely unknowing. I hate her. I hate her for wanting you. I hate her for pursuing you. You are mine. You make me want to possess you, and I hate that. I hate feeling rage and jealousy stirring in me. Such ugly emotions. What I hate the most is that you aren’t mine, not even a little bit. Not at all. But I want you to be. And I need to make you see that. I have to act. Fast.

Flirts and skins.


turned in my health report a couple of hours ago, and the relief was immense. This leaves me with one burden less to think about. Of course, I’ll probably gain ten more tomorrow, but I don’t have to worry about that until later. My very eventful night has consisted of finishing the first series of Skins. The UK version, of course. I was a bit sceptic at first, just because it didn’t strike me as a show of much depth. I quickly realized that I was wrong. It’s brilliant. Truly brilliant. I look forward to watching the following, fortunately several, series.

This was kind of a Phreckles day. We were using the computers in class, working on our biology reports (see, already another burden), and a friend had chosen to write about the sexual behavior of different animals. She was reading an article about flirting and left the computer. I went over to see was she was looking at and just cracked up laughing when I read the cheesy shit that was written. People asked me what I was laughing at so I decided to read an excerpt out loud. It had to do with playing with your hair and, my personal favorite, looking behind you and giving the object of your desire a flirtatious smile. Yes, all those clichés. So I look across the classroom, the desks are facing each other in a weird way, and see Phreckles smiling at me. Naturally, I feel embarrassed and look down smiling. For some reason, I was smiling and twirling my hair to myself the rest of that lesson. I wonder why.

Second part of the Phreckles day was that I suddenly, an hour ago or so, felt my fingers itching. I got this, unsettlingly strong, urge to call him. To just find his number some (stalkerish) way and call him. Then my mind caught up with my racing heart and reminded me that I’d just sit there with the phone to my ear, hearing him saying “Hello? Hello?” Just sitting there, silent. Which would be creepy and, again, stalkerish. So I dropped that idea pretty quickly. Still, it would be nice. Maybe some day? Possibly? Hopefully.

Love & zombies

Sometimes, as I’m lying in bed, trying to sleep, I imagine that an unknown number calls.

When I pick up, I hear your voice saying “hi”. I imagine just giving a deep sigh as I realize it’s you. Then I imagine asking you how you got my number, and that you have some long explanation that sounds unreasonably complicated. Then I imagine myself telling you everything, how I really feel. And then I imagine us just spending the night talking about anything and everything. From the things we like to the things we don’t like, our stories, our thoughts. Just enjoying hearing each 0ther speak. Then I imagine whispering: “I’m really glad you called.” And you answer: “me too” and I smile, not only because of your words, but because I can hear the smile in your voice as you’re saying those words. I imagine us talking until I hear the birds chirping outside my window, talking with slurred voices, heavy eyelids and lazy smiles. I imagine us slowly drifting to sleep, with the phones still to our ears. Eventually, our conversation about anything and everything turns into hearing each other breathing heavily through the phone. I imagine not being able to stay awake anymore, and falling asleep with a smile on my face.

An almost-tale of a girl and a boy

Once upon a time, there was a girl called Phemy and a boy called V. Phemy and V were in the same spanish class for two years, but had never uttered a single word to each other. Until ninth grade came. In the ninth grade, they gor assigned seats, because the teacher, also known as the Witch, had control issues. Phemy and V were placed together, reluctantly, since they did not know each other.

After little time, the two decided that they quite enjoyed each other’s company, and were quite grateful for being paired up. They quickly developed their own dynamic, V would tease and joke with Phemy, while she pretended that she was above his antics and frequently told him so. Secretly, she adored their little interactions. Said interactions were noticed by the rest of the class – who were puzzled by the odd pairing. Despite the general confusion, the Witch seemed to be one step ahead of everyone, encouraging their blooming friendship.

Spanish class became the highlight of Phemy’s days and soon, she realized that her feelings for him had transcended the friendly sort, there was more. At first, she did not think that the sentiments were returned, and did not plan on acting on them. Until she noticed changes in V. Subtle differences that V was trying to…flirt with Phemy? No, she thought. That could not be. They were just friends. She honestly believed this, until she saw something that made her second-guess herself.

One day, in spanish class, she noticed V doodling in the marginal of his notebook, and curiously peeked to see what he was drawing. Apparently, he was not drawing, he was writing. She caught him hastily scribbling down the words “Phemy is cute”, only to color over them – effectively destroying all traces of evidence. Phemy could not believe it, was it possible that her feelings towards V were reciprocated? The butterflies flapping their wings in her stomach told her that she dared to believe so. Phemy was elated over this newfound conclusion, but still decided to not do anything about it. Phemy thought that there was no rush, and that their feelings toward each other would come out eventually.

She was wrong. Time flew by, and before she knew it, ninth grade was over. Phemy decided that she could not let him go without telling him how she felt, and she planned on letting him know when everyone was saying goodbye. That day, Phemy cried like she had never shed a single tear in her entire life, and when it was time for her to confess her feelings to V, it was impossible. Instead, she just gave him a tight hug, laughing through her tears as V was consoling her, saying “don’t cry, it’s not like anyone’s died”. It was such a stupid thing to say – typical for him. She gave him a sad smile, put her hand on his cheek, and whispered: “Goodbye V.”

Phemy and V have not spoken since that last day in ninth grade, when words were left unsaid. A lot has happened since, and Phemy has long moved on. Still, she can’t help but think:

Could they have lived happily ever after?

We’re teenagers

Hola amigos,

I’ve been relatively busy this week. And by busy, I mean that I’ve actually had things to do besides just being in the bat cave (also known as my room). I think it’s highly ironic that I’ve spent the majority of the break doing nothing and then suddenly, when I only have a week left, my calendar is booked.

Today, I was in the city with two friends, just roaming around and then grabbing a bit to eat. It was nice, but I felt strange. I was on edge, looking around. It didn’t dawn on me until later – I was looking for Phreckles. Everywhere I looked, I saw reminders of him. I saw a redheaded boy, around the same height, from behind and instantly, my hopes raised. Until I realized the shade was all wrong, he didn’t have that strange mix of cinnamon and copper. Another one wore a checkered dress shirt under a knitted sweater. Someone had the exact same shade of azure in his eyes. Then it got a bit sad. I felt like Fate was messing with me, just because I saw some dude with a random cap that didn’t even resemble one of Phreckles’. But it was a cap. This went on the entire time, and at the end of the day, I wanted to slap myself for being so pathetic.

So now I’m sitting at home, laughing at myself as I’m writing this post. Thinking about what’s happening tomorrow. I’m going out to eat with some friends in the evening, but before that, me and my friend are going into the city again. Do some shopping. Maybe. Hopefully. And now I realize that I’ll probably spend the whole day looking for him again. Sad? Me? No.

Love & Ninjas